quitting

source

collarbones. 

dirt on my feet. 

flesh on my bones.

blood in my veins. 

unoriginal.

uninspired. 

death-defying. 

denying all known remedies.

sometimes i feel like i need to do things eloquently. like it's not enough just to be myself. doesn't the world tell you to be yourself? why is it, then, that i feel so much pressure to be you, and vice versa. society isn't all it's cracked up to be, ladies & gentleman. ladies, please, wear some decent clothes, and who cares if you got a new pimple. (you're beautiful, swettie!) and gentlemen, please, do me a massive favour. 

*incoming rant*

PUT A SHIRT ON! I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE A SIX-PACK OR NOT! IF I HAVE TO WEAR A SHIRT, THEN YOU HAVE TO WEAR A SHIRT AS WELL! 

(does anyone else find it strange that whilst women are continually told to put some clothes on, i don't think men are told enough)

*end of rant (please continue in an orderly fashion to the nearest exit)*

so to hell with being eloquent, and like you. i'm gonna be my own damn person, and gonna live my life, and chalk my hair, and get my nose pierced, and wear handmade clothes, and get married, and have children, and grow old with my beloved by my side. 

Children, be wonderful today.

X

(ps. i quit my job. now i'm broke & unemployed....)